Life of a Slytherin
by awesomeninja09
Summary: That blasted word was called only seconds after I'd sat down. There was a stunned silence as the house of the green and silver processed the fact that a muggleborn had been put into their house. A hesitant applause was produced after a fraction of a second, but that was a fraction of a second that I was entirely aware of.


**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

I will admit, I thought that my first year at Hogwarts was going to be amazing. (How could I have possibly believed otherwise?)

I'm a muggle born, so Hogwarts sounded like a dream come to life. I didn't know what the Houses were, I hadn't witnessed the House rivalries. I couldn't have possibly known what was going to happen. (It was impossible to predict, after all.)

I met a couple kids on the Hogwarts Express that were also in first year. They all seemed pretty nice. I really wanted to be in the same House as one of them. Only known am I realizing how naive I was. I expected all of this to just come to me (and you are going to be incredibly disappointed with this simile) like magic. I was a young child of eleven. (How could I possibly have known better?)

The boats were amazing. I got on one of them with three of my friends, laughing an watching the sun set, my fingertips brushing the cold water. (It was heaven.)

Then we got to Hogwarts. My first reaction was a gasp- it was so much more grand than I'd ever even thought to imagine. Towers stood hundreds of feet high, the walls seemed like giants. (I was going to be royalty in this fascinating kingdom.)

We walked into the school. Professor McGonagall- I'm going to have to remember that name for later- took us into the castle and gave us a speech about Hogwarts and the rules and House points- the list goes on. (I listened to the whole thing.)

Then we entered the Great Hall. I remember feeling my eyes widen and my jaw drop, basking in the feeling of bliss. The floating candles and four tables filled with students wearing different colored ties had me grinning without knowing it. (It was perfect.)

Then Professor McGonagall started calling people to go up and get themselves Sorted. I remember being really nervous. (How could you not be nervous?)

The second that my name was called, I rushed for the rickety stool with the talking hat on it. I sat down tenderly and the hat was pushed into my head, covering my eyes and not permitting me to see. Nervousness filled my body like hot air in a balloon. (Only muggles would understand that simile.)

That blasted word was called only seconds after I'd sat down. There was a stunned silence as the house of the green and silver processed the fact that a muggleborn had been put into their house. A hesitant applause was produced after a fraction of a second, but that was a fraction of a second that I was entirely aware of. (I had never felt so embarrassed and relieved at the same time.)

All of the people that I'd become friends with on the Train were sorted into different Houses. The House of the yellow and black for one. The House of the blue and bronze. The House of gold and maroon. (But none of them came to Slytherin, the House of green and silver.)

They cut all ties with me soon after that. Even if we hadn't been friends for very long, I'd never really made a true friend. I remember that If thought that it was going to be them- they were my true friends. (I know now that true friends don't leave you like that.)

I made one or two friends in Slytherin, but they weren't true friends. They were almost like replacements for the friends that had left me in the dust. (Of course.)

So it was tough, learning that I wasn't liked by anybody in the school. Or anybody, for that matter. Not by Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, or Hufflepuffs because I'm a Slytherin. Not by Slytherins because I'm a muggleborn. Not my my sister because I'm a witch. (Why?)

(Someone help me.)

* * *

Second year was a little more easy to deal with. I was used to not being liked by the time that I was twelve. I'd had my fair share of being cursed in the hallways, pranked in my dorm room, sick with no one to visit me. (So why was it so hard to deal with?)

I tried to ignore all of the hatred coming my way. I'd heard stories of what most Slytherins became when they got older- I didn't want to be like the rest of them. I wanted to make my own destiny. I wanted to be known. (Because that was possible for a Slytherin.)

I worked hard to get good grades. I tried to stay away from Nott and Avery and Lestrange and the rest of them, but it was too hard. So I tried tuning them out. I tried and tried but I was never good enough. (I'm never good enough.)

How could I be? I was me. I wasn't perfect at anything. I wasn't popular. How could I be good enough? (That's always the question, is it not?)

I started to get picked on more and more by my ex friends. They would nod to me in the hallways then hex me when my back was turned. Especially the Gryffindor ones. (Since when does your House determine your Heart?)

I soon found out about a club for younger Slytherins who were being picked on my other kids. You could only be thirteen or younger to be in, so nobody over fourth year is allowed. I went to the first meeting in second year to see what the club was about. When I realized that it was almost like a group therapy session, I found the time in my schedule to make it to almost every meeting. I told everyone there about my friends from the Train and what being a Slytherin does to someone and their friendships. I told everyone that I wasn't allowed to go to House parties and formal events outside of school because I'm a muggleborn. I told everyone that even my parents didn't really like me all that much. (I told them that I was only accepted with them.)

That therapy session became my lifeline. The jokes and pranks and hexes got worse- the jabs became threats and the gloating became action. I was terrified to leave my dorm room, much less the Slytherin common room. I let studies overcome me, taking up all of my time. What else could I do? (Pretend that I'm okay?)

(I'm not okay.)

* * *

Third year starts out bad enough. There had been more raids over the summer and people are started to glance at me when they talk about it. They don't mean for me to notice, I'm sure. But just because they don't mean for me to notice doesn't mean that I won't. (They aren't bereft of personality like me.)

I hate to admit this, but I'm starting to understand where the other Slytherins are coming from. No one accepts you because you're a Slytherin except Voldemort, why not join him? No one else has been kind to you. But he has! Your master has never been bad to you. (I can think of a million and one reasons to not join that filth.)

Attacks are getting worse. My Head of House has even talked to me personally about this, asking if I was okay. He obviously knew that my family are muggles. (Of course he pitied me.)

I couldn't help but be sad that I wouldn't have another year in the therapy group. I begged and begged, but the Leader of the group said that there were rules in place for a reason. The older kids tended to follow in the Dark Lords footsteps, he told me. They prefer to take their anger and frustration out in... other ways. (Like cursing and praising the Dark Lord, I know.)

I feel remorse for being in Slytherin, which is horrible because it's not something that I can control. But I can't help but think to myself. What would've been different if I'd been in a different House? What if I were wearing a gold and maroon tie instead of a green and silver one? (I'm never going to find out.)

I'm turning into a pessimist. Everything is getting to me. Why can't all of this end? Why can't Slytherin just be accepted by the other Houses? What started this feud between Slytherin and Gryffindor anyway? (Another question I'll never know the answer to.)

I've started reading books in my free time. Not books that relate to classes (maybe DADA, but that's it), but books about other topics. More specifically, the Dark Arts. I tell myself that it's because I want to be able to defend myself. It's because I have a lot of free time and nothing to do. But why would I need to know the Dark Arts for defending myself? (I ignore the rational part of my brain that asks that.)

(I'm stuck in a world that doesn't appreciate anything that I do that's good. So I move on to the bad.)

(Please help me.)

* * *

Fourth year couldn't have been any worse. I was stressing because of OWLs and family problems had been getting to me. (Naturally.)

I thought back to when I was eleven and wanted to be my own person. When I didn't want to be bad. I couldn't help but think that I was being a stupid, ignorant, oblivious child when I had those thoughts. (Three years ago felt like a lifetime for me.)

Professor Dumbledore pulled my into his office once. It was the first time that I'd ever been in there, so I hadn't really known what to expect. It was crazy, full of wires and gadgets that I only knew of because of my parents. (I hadn't expected that for the Headmaster's office.)

The thought of my parents made my insides feel bare. My heart had been squeezed out of its proper place in my body and torn to pieces, shredded, and shoved into a blender. My mother and sister had both died because of a Death Eater attack that they were a little too close to. (Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?)

You'd think that that experience would make me hate the Death Eaters, but all that I can say is that I get where they're coming from. Since I'm in fourth year, I can't go to the therapy club anymore. I've needed to find a way to let out my frustration and stress, so I've started hexing other students. Mostly the Gryffindors, really. (Now that I think about it, it's mostly my ex friends too.)

I'm okay. I am. (Not.)

(I'm becoming who I never wanted to be.)

(Someone please help me)

(I'm dying

on

the

inside)

* * *

Fifth and sixth year were terrible. Nothing too interesting happened, but I feel like I become someone else when I'm talking to other people. (It's terrible.)

I get snotty and mean and I always want to take back what I said but I can't because I'm a Slytherin and Slytherins aren't nice just evil and love the Dark Lord

The Dark Lord is getting more and more powerful and I feel myself wanting to join him, no matter how involuntarily it might be. I'm changing. That little kid with the dreams and the hope for a difference is gone, replaced with me. (This is what Hogwarts does to a person.)

I'm dying. (Slowly.)

And I know that I need help.

(I just don't know how to get it.)

* * *

Seventh year was the worst by far. It was time for me to choose what I want to be when I get older. I wanted to be a famous Quidditch player when I was younger, but now all that I can think about is the Dark Arts. (I'd actually have power.)

Maybe this is why I'm in Slytherin, I reasoned. Maybe I want what's best for me and I don't think about others. Maybe I'm more cunning and evil than I first thought. (I see it now. I don't know how I missed it before.)

I say that I want to work in the Ministry. (Because that's possible for a Slytherin.)

I leave school. We leave in the same boats that we got there in. (It doesn't seem nearly as magnificent as it did before.)

I sit with different people. (My old friends are in the boat next to me.)

The train ride is spent talking with my dorm mates about the Dark Arts. 'I bet I'll join first,' one says. 'No, I will.' The other disagrees. (I stay silent.)

(I've made a mark.)

(But it's not the mark I'd hoped for.)

(It's a Dark Mark.)

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! Or anything you recognize, for that matter.**

 **I write this because I disagree with the prejudices against Slytherins. Even though I'm a Ravenclaw myself, I tried to put this in the perspective of a Slytherin. This is a pretty gender neutral fanfic, so I hope that it works out for you!**

 **Please review to let me know about your thoughts in this topic. Also please let me know what you want me to write about next. Thanks for reading!**

 **AN09**


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